A Modern Muggle Born
by DabouncyBrit98
Summary: What happens when a fangirl realizes her dreams...
1. Chapter 1

**AN: only read this story if you have read all of the harry potter books, because it contains spoilers from all of them, probably. I am not going to make any promises about updates because I am so incredibly bad at that. This may or may not have actually happened.**

 **I am most certainly not J.K. Rowling. Sorry to disappoint.**

Introduction:

Some would say that my story never actually did happen. They're wrong. The story I am about to tell you is completely true, but I changed the names of some of the characters you wouldn't know. If you're reading this story, that means you are as completely and totally addicted to the Harry Potter series as I was when I was eleven. IN fact, if you're on this site, you're addicted to some story, whether that takes the form of a movie, or a book. I don't particularly care one way or the other. You may not believe me when you read my story, but I hope you at least find it amusing, even if you think its fiction.

July 19, 2008

"Ugh." My best friend, Sofronia, groaned. "WHY do we have to go back to school so soon?" I don't really know what her parents were thinking when they named her Sofronia. All the rest of her brothers and sisters (all ten of them) have perfectly normal names, names like Matt, and Emma, and Hannah. And then there's Sof. She's not he youngest, she has four younger siblings, and she's not the oldest, with five older ones. She's as close to a middle child as you can get with a family of ten.

"Um, Sof, sorry to be the bearer of the news, but we haven't set foot in front of that school for nearly three months."

"Precisely my point. Not enough time." She exclaimed heatedly. I just rolled my eyes. Personally, I don't see the problem with school. I like it. I plan to be a writer when I'm older, and I like to learn. Oh, wow. That sounded really clichéd, didn't it? I couldn't wait to go school supply shopping when we got back home. Home, by the way, is Sonning, Berkshire, in England. We were on vacation with Sofronia's family in St. Thomas. Our parents worked together to win a vacation house for us all in an auction last fall. "I can't believe you have nothing to say on the matter! You actually _like_ school!" she sounded so shocked, I actually laughed out loud.

"Come on!" I know what we can do on our last day here!" I said, struck by a sudden inspiration.

"What?" Sof asked, looking mildly interested.

"Let's go to the beach and try to read all seven Harry Potter books. In one sitting." Sofronia readily agreed to this, as we both just adore Harry Potter, and we ran to the room we were sharing, grabbed both of our box sets and ran back out. When Harry potter and the deathly hallows was released last year, we camped out to be the first in the bookstore to get it. It was brilliant. After a wonderful day of non-stop reading, we finished at around eight. I never understood the whole thing about what Americans would call military time. For the sake of this story, because I'm guessing a lot of my readers will be American, I will use the standard American way of time keeping.

The next morning was spent packing, and saying goodbye to our favourite landmarks. By noon, we were on our way to the airport, and in an hour, we were taking off. My last view of St. Thomas was the sparkling blue sea, with the villas on the horizon.

 **AN: Hey guys! Sorry about the length, but I am on vacation. Actually, that would be a reason for me to have more… Anyways, this is just a filler chapter, you could say to set the stage. I hope you enjoyed it.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Next chapter! This is where it really starts to become a story. I hope you enjoy it! If you want to give me ideas as to how I can make my story better, tell me. of course, no major plot twists, because this may or may not have actually happened, and i want to stick to the original story as much as possible. Or you can give me ideas in general. If you want to tell me where you think you go when you die, tell me. If you want to tell me what you were in your second grade play, you can tell me that, too. We can start up some pretty good discussions that way! Anyways, I hope you enjoy the story.**

Chapter 2

When we got home, Mum and Dad told us to start unpacking our stuff, and then come down for supper. We did as we were told, and when we sat down to eat, everyone was relatively subdued. Plane rides for hours and hours can do that to you. Then Mum brought up the subject of my birthday. The vacation to St. Thomas had been partially a birthday present, but they wanted to have a special thing just for me.

"So Bess, what would you like to have at your big birthday dinner?" she asked, picking at her pasta carbanara.

"Could we have bangers and mash?" Then as a special touch, "Pleeeeeeaaaasssse?" I ignored my sister Beatrix, or Bea's annoyed glare. She was forever trying to be grown up and had long since given up on such childish endeavors as begging by drawing out the words. She was sixteen, and only six years older than me. Thankfully, Dad saw this as setting the stage for yet another argument, and stepped in.

"Sure, Bess. Eleven is a big year, and bangers and mash sounds like a great idea." He said, and I made a face at Bea, who just rolled her eyes.  
"Can we ask Gran and Gramps to come? We haven't seen them in ages" I said, suddenly realising how long it really had been since we had seen our grandparents.

"I already asked them." Mum smiled. At this, even Bea had to put down her "All-grown-up" act and do a victory dance with me around the kitchenette.

All the next day, we went to the shops and got all of the things we would need. In case any of my readers don't know what bangers and mash are, I'll give you an Americanized version. It's basically hot dogs or sausages with mashed potatoes. After the grocery, we went into Reading to The Party Box to get some supplies. After a much longer time than should have been necessary, we exited the store laden with confetti, streamers and faerie lights. On the way home, Mum fell asleep, and Bea and I fell into a heated debate about whether rabbits or guinea pigs were cuter (she said rabbits, I said guinea pigs).

My birthday was on Saturday, and Gran and Gramps arrived the day before with much tickling (from Gramps) and reprimands for the tickling (from Gran, Bea, and Mum). There were three large packages that needed to be brought in, which dad quickly slunk outside to do, therefor avoiding Gramps questions about work. Gramps always asks about work, and Dad finds it VERY annoying. Gran and Mum hurried into the kitchen to begin on dinner, while Bea, Gramps, and I went into the family room.

The next morning, I woke up only to find that my feet were buried under a huge mound of birthday gifts. I grinned because a good many looked an awful lot like books. I went downstairs where I smelled my favourite breakfast of all time (crepes) being cooked. We had a very noisy, but nice family breakfast that involved no less than two spills, one caused by me, the other by Gran. By the time we had eaten the whole stack of crepes, we were all laughing our heads off and grinning from ear to ear.

Around noon, Mum realized that she was out of butter, and had to run to the market to get some. The rest of us were just sitting around, talking, and just being a family, when we heard a swift, clear knock at the front door. Shrugging, Dad got up and went into the hall and we heard him talking to someone with a clipped Scottish brogue. Then Dad led a tall older lady into the room, and I think I fainted. I didn't faint because I was hungry, or the lady was my long lost grandmother or something, but I fainted because I was nearly one hundred percent sure that I knew who this was. The Scottish accent, the sharp face with a beak-like nose, and lips that could be pushed together so tightly that they were nearly nonexistent. The reason I fainted was I was pretty sure that Professor Minerva McGonagall was in my family room.

She was wearing pretty normal clothes, if you were from the wizarding world, or were as completely smitten with it as I was. It took only a nanosecond for McGonagall to realize that if I continued to fall, I would hit my head on the corner of the hearth, which, needless to say, would be bad, bad, bad. Another nanosecond, and she cast a spell to keep me from falling anymore. Of course, after that, pandemonium reigned. Well, think about it. If a strange old lady came into your house and then did something with a stick of wood to keep your daughter, sister, and granddaughter from falling to her demise (almost) and then sticks the piece of wood into long robes, which were definitely not normal, and then moves on as though nothing had happened. Yeah. That's pretty much how my family saw things. Well, at least there was no blood involved. I did not see any of this, but I'm going off what I was told later.

Just at that moment Mum came in the door and just stood in the doorway, undoubtedly shocked to see me suspended in mid-air.

"Oh, dear. Well, you all had better sit down. I've a lot to explain." McGonagall said wearily. At this point I woke up, and went to sit on my dad's lap, again ignoring Bea's pained looks.

"You're Professor McGonagall, aren't you?" I asked her, trembling from excitement.

"How did you know that?" She asked sharply, somewhat alarmed. The next person to talk surprised anyone who knew her.

"Well, it's all in the books, isn't it?" asked Bea. I was shocked. I didn't think she had ever read Harry Potter. I gaped at her for a minute, like everyone else in the room. Professor McGonagall was looking at her like she needed to be put into a zoo. My family was looking at her because she had always said that Harry Potter was stupid.

"What books?" Professor McGonagall asked, finally recovering her senses.

"Well, duh. The Harry Potter books, they're only like, the most popular children's book series in the 20th and 21st centuries. Bess can tell you all about them. She's cuckoo over Ron Granger, Hermione Weasley, and Ginny Brown or whatever."

"RON **WEASLEY,** HERMIONE **GRANGER** , GINNY **WEASLEY**!" I shouted at her. At this point I decided that if I let Bea go on any further, she would be telling McGonagall that Lavender Brown is a type of eyeliner.

"The Harry Potter series." I explained quickly, "They're my favourite books. They're about this kid named Harry Potter who finds out he is a wizard, and he goes to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where he meets these two kids, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, who he saves the world with multiple times over the course of seven books. It's really very complicated, and would take days to explain the whole thing to someone who wasn't familiar with it. But, if I'm right in guessing that you're Professor McGonagall, then I hardly need to.

McGonagall looked fairly weak in the knees, and Dad pulled a chair over for her, and she handed me a small envelope that looked vaguely familiar and sent a jolt down my spine. When I turned it over, my confirmation was right there. On the flipped side of the envelope, stamped in black ink, was the Hogwarts crest. I think it was a miracle that I didn't faint again, right then, because, this was most definitely and indisputably a Hogwarts acceptance letter.

 **AN: DUN DUN DUUUUUN! and another chapter. the excitement reaches a fever pitch. Um, actually, this is about the least exciting chapter in the whole story.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A. N. Hello. It's me. I was wondering if after all this time you'd please like to spare my life? That'd be great, thanks. I have absolutely no excuse this time, except for utter laziness. It occurred to me that I published the first chapter sometime in August of 2015. Um... Guess what? It's now June of 2016, and I have published two chapters. Yay, me! (Please note the sarcasm). I do have a draft for another chapter saved on my computer, but I don't like it very much. There's also this huge dialog portion, that's very weird and long and one person basically giving the Gettysburg Address. So now I'm writing a new one. I was just re reading the first two chapters, and it occurred to me that despite my best efforts, it sounded like an American trying to sound British. Which I am. Sort of, but that's another, long, unrelated, boring, unnecessary story. I'm really sorry. I amnot actually living in England, currently, and I know that it truly sounds stupid. I have worked a lot on my writing over the intervening year (sorry!) and I hope it's a little less painful to read.**  
 **Honestly, I'm not sure what I was trying to do, setting it in 2008. I'm sure I had some bug plot plan, but I have absolutely no idea what that is now, so that's abandoned. It's actually set in 2015, at least the first part. James Potter's first year.**


End file.
